Frigid Flora

twenty-four - truth's out

I stepped out from behind him, if not a little awkwardly. "Flora. We've met before."

"Ah!" His eyes lit with recognition and he sent Parker a knowing smile. "Your girl. My, my, you're still in her good books after she had to pick you up at ridiculous o'clock? Got a keeper, I say." Then looking at me, he added, "Glad to see you've got more clothes on, though. Was a little worried letting you walk off all skin the last I saw you."

I felt Parker's entire body stiffen beside me, his hand that held mine clamping down with a vice-like grip. "What?"

Andrew let out a hearty chuckle and sent me a playful wink. "Territorial, this one. Calm down, my boy. I'm old enough to be a father to you both. The girl was in her pyjamas when she picked you up and you know the folk around here. Not the type to see girls in a skimpy vest and shorts without doing something about it."

Parker, clearly disliking the memory of putting me through the bother of his drunken self and having it brought up after telling me we were here to forget our stresses, immediately changed the subject. "Right, well, the usual for me, please."

"Coming right up," Andrew replied before looking expectantly at me. "And what can I get for you?"

"Chocolate milk, please." I replied distractedly and almost immediately recognised my mistake.

"Chocolate milk?" Andrew verified with a bemused smile.

"I- uh-" I stammered. "Yes. You know, that one alcohol which is sometimes referred to as chocolate milk on the street."

"I'm not sure I know that one alcohol."

"How unfortunate," I searched my brain for the name of a drink but was drawing blank. How did you make yourself belong in a place you hadn't really been in before and which revolved around an activity you never did? "In that case I'll have- vodka. Yes. I'll have vodka and lots of it, thank you please."

"No," Said Parker immediately, and he wore that face he did when he was trying to refrain from laughing at something I said which he found to be entertaining and/or adorable. At least that was what he said when I asked him once why he was screwing up his pretty features into such a constipated expression. He claimed it had nothing to do with pooping, however, and it was solely down to me. I found it hard to process that something apparently positive could bring about a look of trying to evacuate ones bowels. "No, she'll have one of your fancy cocktail things," And then, leaning over to add in a few octaves lower, said, "Nothing too strong because she doesn't really drink. Just make it pretty to look at. Extra umbrellas and crap like that."

"I'm not deaf. I can hear you."

He kissed the crown of my head but didn't bother to reply.

People were trying to get closer to the bar again and Parker was having difficulty keeping my bubble of space, so he eventually settled on pushing me straight up against the counter and standing behind me, planting a hand on either side of my arms to cage me in. It worked surprisingly well and I had zero skin on skin contact with anyone save for Parker whose touches I was fast becoming used to - even enjoying.

"You okay?" He asked, lips brushing my ear ever so slightly, words struggling to be heard over the loud chatter of strangers.

"Hunky dory. I love being in amongst sweaty, intoxicated bodies. Especially those that grind upon each other," I gestured toward the R-rated PDA happening in a darker corner. "And that scent that you don't get anywhere else. That unique perfume of Au Du Cigar. Love it. Not going to lie, I'd class this place as a second home."

Parker laughed, his breath blowing against my neck and ruffling my hair a little. "I can't believe I brought you here. I'm an awful person."

"It's kind of exciting." I admitted as I looked up at him. It was difficult to do so what with him standing guard around me, and my view was mostly of chin. He tried his best to look down at me anyway and I caught the gleaming smile he sent my way.